


seven minutes on beca

by tmylm



Series: seven minutes [3]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Car Sex, F/F, Seven Minutes In Heaven, Smut, pp1, secret hookup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23303158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: Beca freaks out about sleeping with Chloe, and of course pulls away, because when does she not? Staying away is easier said than done, of course.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Series: seven minutes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1519163
Comments: 25
Kudos: 159





	seven minutes on beca

**Author's Note:**

> I promised a final part to this months ago, I'm sorry it's taken so long to get it done! (If you're just here for the smut, it's toward the end, but hopefully you enjoy the actual story too!!)

Beca doesn’t need distractions.

Not that a two-time hookup could really be considered any kind of _real_ distraction, she supposes. As Beca wakes to the sight of what is very much not her dorm room, though, she is struck by the realization that she may have something of a problem.

It takes her a moment to register her surroundings at first. The fact that she can stretch out a leg and have it not immediately hang over the side of the bed is her first big clue—one thing Beca seriously misses from home is the space to stretch out in a double bed. This double bed, however, does not belong to her. Regardless, it is the second consecutive morning she finds herself waking in it. Unlike yesterday, Beca finds that she is alone.

Despite the shield of the closed drapes, the morning light is almost blinding to her. The unforgiving taste of vodka still lingering on her tongue, she realizes, is likely why.

As far as Beca is aware, she hadn’t even been _that_ drunk last night. Wednesday nights are not exactly prime party nights, after all. Then again, at not-quite nineteen years old, she is really not the most seasoned drinker, so perhaps it makes sense that she is suffering. Either way, as she pushes herself upright in the bed that decidedly does not belong to her, the previous night’s events replay in her foggy mind.

Beca had not been so drunk that she would forget the way she and Chloe had practically fallen through the front door of the Bellas house together, desperate hands tugging at the fabric between them, and made their way messily through the house and up to Chloe’s bedroom.

Distinctly, Beca remembers full lips pressing harshly against her own, the feeling of teeth gently grazing down against the smooth skin of her neck. Although there is no mirror close by, as Beca lifts a hand to coast her fingers over the exact patch, she is positive she is touching at least a faint mark.

“Shit,” Beca murmurs in a somewhat hoarse voice, glancing down to the sight of her exposed upper half. The bottom half is still covered by the comforter, but she knows already that there is nothing underneath. All she has to do is glance over to her left, to the sight of her jeans and discarded panties in a small heap on the floor, to confirm as much.

To her right, neatly displayed on the bedside table, Beca notices a small bottle of Advil standing beside a full bottle of Gatorade. A handwritten note alongside the two reads, simply:

_Take two of these, you’ll feel better!_

Beca does not know Chloe’s handwriting, but presumably it is hers—this is Chloe’s room, after all.

In an effort to quell her alcohol-induced headache, Beca follows written instruction, though proceeds to peel herself from the bed directly afterwards. The mumbled sound of incoherent voices rings from somewhere downstairs as Beca tugs on last night’s clothes, feeling every bit the college cliche—even more so because she has decided she will most definitely _not_ be going to any of her classes today. She finally catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror propped up against Chloe’s small vanity, the sight of her smudged eyeliner and unruly hair causing her to physically groan.

True to the college cliche, this really should not be a big deal. People hook up with people all the time, it doesn’t necessarily have to mean anything. And this doesn’t, it doesn’t mean anything. She and Chloe have done this twice, Beca tells herself as she scours the room for sight of her phone. However, visions of the previous night—and the one before—flash through her mind; she and Chloe so wrapped up in one another, so comfortable in one another’s arms post-sex despite having only done this a total of two times, and Beca cannot help but note a certain, uncomfortable level of domesticity.

And _that_ is why Beca feels the way she does, why she is filled with a sense of unfair regret. Hooking up is hooking up, it’s whatever. Cuddling up together afterwards? That is dangerous territory. It’s not something Beca needs to explore, because she doesn’t need the distraction, doesn’t need anything _serious_ here. Perhaps she is getting ahead of herself, but it is enough to make Beca desperately want to run.

So, she does.

Without even so much as a goodbye to either Chloe or Aubrey—the owners of the two mumbled voices, she learns as she makes her way quickly down the stairs and past the kitchen—Beca hurries out of the front door, and silently prays that nobody follows.

Fortunately for her, they don’t.

By the time Beca arrives back at her dorm room—apparently, someone really is looking out for her this morning, because her roommate is nowhere in sight—the battery on her admittedly out of date iPhone has finally given up.

Beca chooses not to charge it.

* * *

**  
Chloe  
** _Somewhere better to be??_  
_Okay, well, I hope your head isn’t hurting too badly!_

It is pathetic, Beca realizes as she finally turns on her freshly charged phone a little later, that she is somehow hurt that those are the only two text message notifications from Chloe.

Regardless, perhaps unfairly, Beca chooses not to respond.

* * *

Beca has never really dealt with an intense hangover before. In reality, she isn’t even one hundred percent sure that that is what this is. For all she knows, she really could just be getting sick or something. Regardless, as Beca wakes from an impromptu nap to find that the room around her has grown much darker than it had before she’d closed her eyes, she notes that her head is still pounding. She feels tired and groggy, so much so that it takes a second knock on the door for her to even register that there had been a first one. She realizes that had been the thing to rouse her, though.

“Beca? You in there?”

Beca groans, though proceeds to peel herself from the comfort of her bed. “Yeah, one sec,” she calls back toward the door, forcing herself lazily to her feet. Slowly, she shuffles across the small room, pulling open the door to be greeted by Jesse’s smiling face. It is almost annoying, how put together he looks, but that’s just Beca’s jealousy; she wishes she didn’t feel like shit right now, that’s all.

“Oh, whoa,” Jesse chuckles quietly, “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Beca grumbles disgruntledly, stepping aside to halfheartedly motion Jesse in. “Hungover, I guess.”

“Makes sense,” Jesse shrugs a shoulder, breezing by Beca and into the room. He is much more alert than she is, it would seem. “You were pretty out of it last night.”

All Beca does is frown in response, closing the door behind him. The sound it makes is not a loud one, but somehow her ears seem to register it much more intensely, and Beca openly winces in reaction. Jesse seems to find it amusing, though Beca is too exhausted to even shoot him a snarky look. Instead, she just turns to face him, arms folding loosely across her middle.

“Do you have a fake ID?” Jesse questions. He is eyeing her almost suspiciously, so Beca simply shrugs in response. The action causes Jesse to quietly chuckle again. “I’m not a cop, Bec. Bumper’s birthday party is tomorrow, he’s having it in some club downtown. I figured I’d see if you wanted to go.”

Beca’s first response is to briefly raise a brow. For the past couple months, with the two working together at the radio station, Jesse has been pretty flirty—unabashedly so, in fact. Beca, for her part, has resisted his advances, and while Jesse has been respectful, she has seen the way he tends to look at her. Beca does not return those same longing looks. Again, she really doesn’t need _that_ kind of a distraction.

Apparently, Jesse notices the expression she shoots his way, and quickly shakes his head. “Not like a date,” he quickly clarifies, plopping down casually onto the edge of Beca’s unmade bed. “I just don’t really know the guys very well yet, but it seems douchey to blow it off,” he shrugs, “I could just use some backup.”

While Beca eyes him a moment longer, she senses something genuine about his reasoning. Again, Jesse really has been respectful, all things considered. Finally, Beca releases a small sigh. “Can I let you know tomorrow?” She frowns. “The thought of being anywhere near alcohol right now is making me want to hurl.”

Jesse grins brightly in response, head nodding shortly. “Yeah, sure.” He pauses, glancing toward Kimmy Jin’s vacated side of the room. “You wanna hang out and watch a movie or something while I’m here?”

Beca doesn’t like movies in general, Jesse knows that. It is a specific conversation they’ve had already, in fact. Still, she figures the company won’t hurt, and responds with a small shrug of her shoulder. Beca really doesn’t mind Jesse; no, she doesn’t see him as anything more than a friend, but she _does_ consider him a friend. And friends hang out, right? “If you don’t mind me probably falling asleep at some point, then sure,” she motions toward her laptop, “Go ahead.”

* * *

Although Beca is feeling better by Bellas rehearsals the following day, she is still incredibly irritable. She still does not have time for Aubrey’s barked orders and military style leadership. Mostly, though, Beca finds it kind of awkward, being around Chloe. The last time they had seen one another, they had been having sex. Then, Beca had left Chloe’s house abruptly, only to ignore her—admittedly limited—efforts to reach out.

So, to Beca, it is awkward. It’s incredibly awkward, in fact.

Chloe, on the other hand, seems entirely unfazed. She greets Beca with a characteristically bright smile and an enthusiastic wave right off the bat, both things causing Beca’s dark brows to knit momentarily, and doesn’t even hint at bringing up the past couple nights.

It is stupid really, the fact that something about that bothers Beca—especially because she is certain she doesn’t _want_ Chloe to bring it up.

Beca doesn’t mean to snap at Chloe, she doesn’t mean to blame her for whatever it is that she is mentally blaming her for right now. But, as Beca halfheartedly mimics the generic, outdated dance move they are supposed to be learning, and Chloe slides up behind her to grasp her arms and help to move her, Beca finds that she snaps.

“Dude, I can do it!” She half yells. Beca’s abrupt outburst catches the attention of some of the other girls; she notes curious eyes turning toward her, but actively makes a point not to look back.

Chloe, however, simply releases her gentle grasp. She proceeds to take a small step back, dropping her hands safely down to her sides. “Okay,” she says in her usual cheerful tone, “Go ahead.”

Something about Chloe’s tone of voice, about the way she just seems so nonchalant and unaffected, grinds Beca’s gears. It is unfair really, Chloe hasn’t done anything wrong. And it’s not like Beca even _wants_ her to chase her—honestly, she doesn’t know what she wants. She is confused, that much is obvious, and true to form, it is putting Beca on edge.

If they could just go back to that Halloween party, to that stupid middle school game in that stupid closet, and Beca could just _not_ hear whatever Chloe had to say about wanting to kiss her, then things would be okay. They should still be okay, truth be told. Beca knows she is making this into something much bigger than it needs to be, but she just can’t help herself. She can’t help the way she can’t get Chloe off her mind, and something about that is making her retreat.

Rehearsals really cannot end fast enough. Though, once they do, after what feels like an entire eternity, Beca finds herself hanging back slightly. Other than her phone, which rests safely in the back pocket of her skinny jeans, she had attended empty-handed. She doesn’t have belongings to pack away, nor does she have to fasten the shoelace she is currently in the process of unfastening and then fastening again.

She is waiting for Chloe, Beca knows she is waiting for Chloe. She just.. doesn’t know why.

It is the same way that she doesn’t know why it bothers her when she picks up her head to see Chloe breezing by with her backpack tossed over her shoulder, doing nothing but sending a small wave her way.

“Seriously?” Beca grumbles quietly to herself. Her own annoyance, while very much normal for her, is evidently misplaced. Hurriedly, Beca takes a quick glance over her shoulder toward Aubrey—the only other person left in the room—who is decidedly not paying any amount of attention to her, before letting out a small groan and finally standing up straight.

Although Chloe walks pretty quickly, Beca manages to catch up.

“Dude,” Beca calls, the sound of her voice evidently registering to Chloe. Chloe pauses to turn toward her, and Beca notes the way her auburn brows seem to knit softly together. Evidently, Chloe can see the somewhat annoyed expression on Beca’s face, though she chooses not to verbally question it. Her own expression says it all, though. “Are you avoiding me or something?”

With a slightly tilted head, Chloe stares back for a moment. Slowly, a somewhat disbelieving look graces her pale features, and Beca can’t be sure, but she feels like Chloe is trying to bite back something of a smile. “Excuse me?”

“Back there,” Beca huffs, motioning over her shoulder and toward the building they have just departed. “You just—”

Chloe cuts her off with a brief shake of her head. “I just what, Beca?”

“You just—”

“What I did is tried to help you in there and you blew me off,” Chloe states. Beca notes that there is no malice behind her tone. Chloe doesn’t even sound angry, she is just speaking very matter-of-factly, and something about that confuses Beca. “The same way you blew me off when you left yesterday without saying goodbye, or without even answering my texts.” Chloe’s arms fold loosely across her middle, and Beca is sure the soft smile on her lips is something of a sympathetic one. “Look, I’m not gonna chase you, Beca. I thought we were having fun, but clearly we were on different pages, and that’s okay. I guess I just read things wrong again, that’s all.”

For Beca’s part, she simply stares back at Chloe in the same confusion as before, dark brows tugging tightly together. “I don’t want you to chase me.”

“Then what _do_ you want?” Chloe questions. Again, there is no anger to her tone. She is simply confused, and honestly, Beca cannot blame her. Especially because Beca doesn’t even have a response for her. Apparently, her silence serves as answer enough, though. “That’s what I thought,” Chloe says in a gentle voice. Delicately, she reaches out a hand to settle against Beca’s shoulder, long fingers wrapping comfortably around it. All Beca does in return is glance down at Chloe’s hand, before moving her line of sight back up toward Chloe’s face. “It’s really okay, okay?” Chloe continues, gently squeezing Beca’s shoulder, before letting go. “I have somewhere that I have to be right now, but I’ll see you in Bellas rehearsals on Monday, okay?”

Chloe’s departing smile as she edges backward seems so natural, so _confusingly_ natural, and all Beca can do in response is stare. She stares as Chloe offers her a weak smile, before turning to hurry along her previous path, leaving Beca standing, bewildered, and basking in the realization that whatever rift is happening between the two of them now, she is the one to have caused it herself.

None of this makes sense. Honestly, it isn’t even a _thing_ , but Beca is making it into one. She knows that she needs to stop, that a good distraction is exactly what she needs right now.

That distraction comes in the form of a text message notification buzzing from her back pocket.

**Jesse  
** _Hey, Bec. U coming to the party tonight?_

In truth, Beca doesn’t really want to go. In fact, when Jesse had asked her yesterday, despite telling him that she’d think about it, she had absolutely no intentions of doing so. Though, her response doesn’t take much thought. If she can distract her mind somehow, she’ll take the excuse. Even if that excuse does involve celebrating the birthday of some obnoxiously egotistical guy that Beca doesn’t even like.

**Beca  
** _Yeah  
_ _I’m not drinking but I’ll drive us in my dad’s car_

**Jesse  
** _I knew your dad was a taxi driver!_

**Beca  
** _Shut up. Come to my dorm when you’re ready and we’ll head out_

**Jesse  
** _Nice_  
_8:30 good?_

**Beca  
** _Mhm_  
_Listen, don’t tell Aubrey about this ok? She’s weird about mixing with you guys_

**Jesse  
** _Damn, fraternizing with the enemy? Badass_  
_I won’t say a word_

* * *

By eight-thirty, Beca still does not want to go to Bumper’s birthday party. However, she chooses not to say so, and instead finds herself in the driver’s seat of her dad’s newly cleaned black Audi, with Jesse sitting in the passenger seat. His roommate, Benji, occupies the back, and Beca is happy for the two of them to converse with one another—the less interaction she has to participate in, the better.

She continues this same silent mantra as they enter the bar to the sound of a group of already buzzed boys, most of whom are definitely not old enough to be here—then again, neither is Beca; she notes the skeptical expression shot her way by the security guy as she flashes him her fake ID, but he does not stop her from entering.

To begin with, Jesse remains dutifully by her side, though Beca reminds him that she is a big girl and can take care of herself.

(Of course, she has been acting like a total baby the last few days, but he doesn’t need to know that.)

Eventually, Beca finds that she is left alone. She and her can of redbull occupy a seat off to the side of the crowd, and while the music is enough to keep her moderately entertained, she eventually begins to scroll idly through her instagram feed.

Considering it is Friday night, there are plenty of alcohol-fueled uploads, though Beca notes a distinct lack of activity from a certain redhead—the same redhead she is not supposed to be thinking about. Regardless, Beca finds herself clicking through to Chloe’s profile. Chloe is usually fairly active, it is almost strange that she isn’t tonight.

The voice to break into her idle thoughts gives her the answer as to why.

“A Trebles party? Really?”

Beca’s head snaps up, thumb instinctively locking her phone screen—the screen still displaying Chloe’s Instagram profile—to be met by the sight of incredibly familiar blue eyes. Chloe stands above her, hands planted on her hips, and Beca takes note of the amused smile threatening her perfectly glossed lips.

“Did Jesse bring you?”

For a moment, Beca just stares. Eventually, however, she shakes her head, snapping herself from her trance. “What? What are you doing here?”

Chloe responds with a quiet giggle, one that Beca notes is kind of annoyingly cute, even drowned out some by the loud sound of bass-heavy music playing around them. “Can I?” Chloe questions, motioning to the space beside Beca. Beca scoots over slightly, watching as Chloe sits. “I guess I’ll see you before Monday, huh?” Chloe gently nudges her arm against Beca’s.

It doesn’t make sense to Beca, why Chloe is being so _normal_ with her. If she thinks about it, Beca has actually been a total dick to Chloe. Like she’d said earlier, not only had she snapped at her for no reason during rehearsals, but she had basically ghosted her only a day before. If the roles were reversed, Beca would be pissed. Chloe, though? She isn’t. And Beca doesn’t understand it.

“Bumper and I go way back,” Chloe shrugs, finally answering Beca’s question. She earns herself a raised brow from Beca in return.

“What? And Aubrey knows that?” Beca questions, staring at Chloe incredulously.

Chloe’s nose wrinkles in response. “Not like that. We went to high school together. But,” Chloe pauses, bringing her glass up to her lips. Beca doesn’t know what she’s drinking, but if Chloe is sticking to her usual drink, she can take a wild guess at the fact that it’s vodka cranberry. “No, Aubrey doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Would she be pissed if she did?” Beca asks, head tilting slightly. It’s almost annoying, how easy it is to slip into casual conversation with Chloe. It’s not like they’re friends; they’ve hooked up a couple times, that’s all. Beca tolerates Chloe. She _thinks_ she just tolerates Chloe, anyway.

“No,” Chloe shakes her head, and Beca hates the way she just about melts in response to Chloe’s quick wink in her direction, “Co-captain perks.”

Rather than respond, Beca slowly nods her head. She isn’t thirsty, but she brings the redbull up to her lips anyway, mostly just giving herself something to do.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Chloe comments sincerely, offering Beca a genuine smile. Even in the bar’s dim lighting, Beca notes that Chloe looks incredible. She is wearing a short, tight-fitting dress, one that Beca finds herself staring down at, though pulls her gaze up quickly to meet Chloe’s lingering stare. She is glad for the dim lighting now; at least Chloe won’t be able to see the way her cheeks have reddened slightly.

“Right. Kind of a sausage-fest, huh?” Beca frowns, gaze sweeping across to the main party.

Chloe chuckles softly, but shakes her head gently in response. “Not what I meant.” She pauses, this time to eye Beca curiously. Her volume drops slightly as she continues. “Bec, are you okay? I don’t want anything to be weird between us, but I know that it is. It doesn’t have to be, you know?”

It is Beca’s turn to study Chloe now. Her lips purse slightly in thought, though Chloe doesn’t question her further. She just sits and waits patiently, allowing Beca a moment to gather her thoughts. “I know,” Beca finally says, gaze shifting from Chloe and down to the can of redbull held securely in both hands. “This is just something I do.”

“What do you mean?” Chloe asks in a gentle voice.

“I don’t know,” Beca shrugs a shoulder lamely, “Push people away, I guess.”

While Beca is not looking at Chloe, she can see her from the corner of her eye. She can see the way Chloe is slowly nodding her head, as if she understands. Beca doesn’t really know how that’s possible— _she_ doesn’t even understand herself. She is beginning to realize that is Chloe all over, though: understanding. Chloe is genuine, she is not judgmental, and she certainly doesn’t deserve Beca’s cold shoulder.

“You don’t have to push me away, you know?” Chloe says softly, her voice interrupting Beca’s thoughts. It is not an unwelcome distraction, of course. In the grand scheme of things, Chloe’s presence here is pretty counterproductive, considering Beca had agreed to attend in an effort to _stop_ thinking about Chloe. She is not complaining now, though. “I want to be your friend, Beca. I’m sorry if sex has ruined that, but we don’t have to do that anymore,” Chloe shrugs, “We can be friends.”

Beca considers her words for a second, the concept of she and Chloe being friends rolling over curiously in her mind. Honestly, she isn’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Then again, Beca has to admit, she really hasn’t given Chloe much of a chance. They had barely been friends before the Halloween party, and Beca cannot help but wonder if it’ll be weird, the fact that they’ve seen each other naked.

She doesn’t even realize she hasn’t responded until she hears Chloe chuckle softly again. “Or not.”

Quickly, Beca shakes her head. “Sorry. No, yeah, friends is good,” she says finally, sending Chloe a small but genuine smile. “I can do friends.”

“Cool,” Chloe grins, bringing her glass back up to her lips. Easily, she sinks back the rest of her drink, before placing the glass down on the table before them. “I don’t really feel much like drinking,” she frowns, turning toward Beca. “Wanna go dance?”

It is Beca’s turn to look at Chloe like she is crazy now. “I don’t do that.”

“You so do,” Chloe retorts. She lifts her hands to mimic the motion of the dance move Beca had been trying to perfect earlier.

Beca responds with a playful roll of her eyes, though a small, natural chuckle falls from her lips.

“Come on,” Chloe states, pushing herself up from her seat. She straightens out the short skirt of her dress, before turning to glance down at Beca. Chloe instantly holds out her hand to help Beca up. “No offense, but as your friend, I have to tell you that you look super lame sitting over here on your own.”

Normally, Beca would protest harder, but for some reason, she doesn’t. Instead, she reaches out to settle her hand in Chloe’s, ignoring the warm feeling to course throughout her as Chloe’s long fingers wrap comfortably around her own. She allows Chloe to tug her gently upright, then dutifully follows along toward the dance floor, where Chloe proceeds to spin her on the spot. “You’re so weird,” Beca comments.

In spite of herself, of the fact that she really doesn’t dance, Beca finds that Chloe’s breeziness is kind of infectious, even for someone as guarded as her. The same way Chloe’s hips move in time with the rhythmic beat of the music, Beca’s do, too.

Much like Beca is not exactly a professional where drinking is involved, she also hasn’t been to many bars or clubs. However, she notices already that Chloe is making this fun, and that even though neither of them has an alcoholic drink, it is easy to loosen up. It is easy to get lost in the beat drumming out around them. It is loud enough for Beca to feel comfortable, even more so with Chloe.

It doesn’t surprise Beca, the fact that Chloe is kind of handsy. She isn’t trying anything, isn’t doing anything inappropriate, but her fingers grasp at Beca’s waist every now and then as they dance, hips casually grinding against Beca’s.

What is more surprising, in fact, is the way Beca reciprocates. Generally, Beca keeps to herself, but it is easy to get lost in the moment with Chloe, easy for her to reach up and wrap her arms loosely around Chloe’s neck. She catches Chloe’s stare every so often, sometimes pulling her own away quickly, sometimes not. Beca puts it down to the fact that they’ve hooked up a couple times, the way Chloe’s body moving so closely against her own causes a certain train of thoughts to chug repeatedly through her mind, somehow louder than the music.

She mentally gives herself the same reason for silently willing Chloe’s hands to tighten around her as they rest on her hips again. Even more so when Chloe goes to pull her arms back, and Beca instinctively reaches down to settle her hands over the tops of Chloe’s. It is almost without thought, the way she tugs Chloe’s hands around her back, settling her palms on her ass.

While Chloe doesn’t stop her, she glances down at Beca with a certain look of questioning. “You’re kind of giving me whiplash here, Mitchell,” Chloe murmurs, though her amusement is evident, and Beca notes the way her fingers squeeze a little where they have landed.

“Yeah?” Beca questions, her arms rising to wrap around Chloe’s neck again. Friends can get lost in the music with each other, right? Friends can totally tighten their arms to tug their friends closer, to make sure there is no space between their two bodies as the loud beat around them picks up. “Don’t think about that,” Beca mumbles as she leans up to ghost her lips against Chloe’s, a certain level of boldness overtaking her.

Friends, like Chloe, can totally lean in and close the gap between them. And friends, like Beca, can revel in the feeling of familiar lips pressing against their own, somehow with no care about who may be watching.

“Whiplash,” Chloe repeats against Beca’s lips. Regardless, she doesn’t even attempt to move away. In fact, Beca notes the feeling of Chloe’s familiar lips curving upward as they press to her own.

Beca’s do the same in response as she quietly murmurs, “Let’s get out of here.”

At this point, Beca is giving herself whiplash, so she cannot blame Chloe for the questioning look she shoots down at her as she pulls back from their impromptu kiss. “Bathroom?”

Beca shakes her head, arms loosening from around Chloe’s neck. Chloe drops her hands from Beca’s ass, tips of her fingers trailing up Beca’s sides until she can capture one of Beca’s hands in her own. “I drove here.”

There is a certain look of pleasant surprise on Chloe’s face as she motions with her head toward the door.

They don’t bother to say goodbye to the guys.

* * *

Something Beca can hand to her father is he’s pretty cool when it comes to actually trusting her—with everything but her prospective career, of course. She had been able to tell him why she needed his car, and he’d been fine with her taking it. Presumably, he had not expected her to have sex in the passenger seat… Then again, neither had Beca.

Her intention had been to drive back to campus, but as Beca slips into the driver’s seat, she feels Chloe’s hands stretching across the center console to grip needily onto her hips. Beca doesn’t fight her as Chloe leans in to urgently reconnect their lips, this kiss much hungrier than the one they had shared inside.

Beca doesn’t pull away. Instead, she slowly parts her lips until her tongue is running gently along Chloe’s, the taste of her gloss sweet against her tongue. She doesn’t pull away as Chloe’s grip tightens to tug her into her lap. Beca lets her, until she is easily straddling Chloe’s thighs, her arms wrapping instinctively around Chloe’s neck.

Beca’s stomach tenses slightly beneath Chloe’s touch the moment Chloe’s hands slide around to the front of her jeans, quick fingers instantly popping open the button. “No,” Beca mumbles against Chloe’s lips. Immediately, Chloe stops, and Beca forces herself back from the kiss, looking down at Chloe somewhat breathlessly already. Chloe simply stares back up at her through hooded lids. “Switch with me,” Beca breathes, “I want you on top.”

Although Beca hasn’t touched a single drop of alcohol, it is almost like she’s somehow drunk as she stares down at Chloe, mind clouded by the very idea of this impromptu tryst. Chloe has that effect on her, Beca has noticed. Chloe has a way of entirely consuming her mind and body, and Beca has no desire to fight it anymore. Honestly, she had probably been stupid to do so beforehand.

While Chloe leans up to reconnect their lips, she pushes her body up against Beca’s until she can flip the two of them around, with Beca now sitting in the passenger seat, and Chloe positioned on top of her. In her short dress, the image of Chloe’s spread legs is so inviting, and Beca cannot help the way her darkened gaze drops down Chloe’s body. She can see her toned abs through the thin material of her dress, and Beca finds that she is desperate to really _feel_ her. Her lowered gaze doesn’t last long, though, before Chloe’s fingers are resting beneath Beca’s chin. She proceeds to lift Beca’s face upward toward her own, full lips reconnecting easily with Beca’s.

“This better?” Chloe murmurs, soft fingertips trailing their way down Beca’s body again. It seems to surprise her, the way Beca reaches down between them to push Chloe’s hand away. She doesn’t pull away from their kiss, though she does pause briefly, until Beca’s hand has begun to slide beneath the fabric of her dress. “Are you sure?” Chloe whispers, teeth gently biting down onto Beca’s bottom lip. It is already swollen from their desperate kiss.

Until now, Beca hasn’t actually touched Chloe. Her hands have trailed over her naked body, but she hasn’t properly _touched_ her. So far, that has all been Chloe, with Beca having even awkwardly mumbled something about how she wouldn’t know what to do. Chloe had been fine with it, though she seems just as fine with Beca finally doing her own exploring.

“Mhm,” Beca murmurs breathily, fingertips edging their way further up the smooth skin of Chloe’s thigh.

Of course, Chloe cannot relinquish full control, so it doesn’t surprise Beca when she feels long fingers beginning to slip beneath the loose fabric of her shirt. Chloe’s hands feel warm against her skin, her touch so familiar as her fingertips travel further up Beca’s body, until her hand is cupping expertly at her breast. Her bra may be acting as a barrier, though Chloe seems to account for it, if the harsh grasp of her fingers is anything to go by.

Getting kind of lost in the feeling of Chloe’s hand pushing its way beneath the cup of her bra is easy, especially as the flattened pad of Chloe’s thumb begins to brush lightly over Beca’s already stiffening nipple.

“God, you have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to touch you,” Chloe breathes, full lips beginning to trail their way across to Beca’s jaw. Instinctively, Beca tilts her face to the side, breath catching in her throat with the feeling of Chloe’s thumb flickering faster, unforgivingly so, over the hardened peak of her nipple.

Beca doesn’t want to get _too_ distracted, at least not to the point where she stops what she is doing. So, she forces herself to focus, in spite of her already quickening breaths, on the hand traveling up the inside of Chloe’s thigh. She notes a certain warmth as her fingertips eventually graze the fabric of Chloe’s panties. There are undeniable nerves shooting throughout her, though as Beca slips her fingers between Chloe’s parted legs, able to feel the already damp fabric, it is almost like some kind of fuel to her.

Leaning back slightly, at least enough to cause Chloe’s lips to pull away from her jaw, Beca lifts her free hand to cup Chloe’s cheek. She proceeds to turn Chloe’s face toward her, instantly seeking out Chloe’s swollen lips with her own. Her fingers rub somewhat lightly over the fabric beneath them, though the gentle movement of Chloe’s hips pushing herself further into Beca’s touch only further fuels her fire, until Beca cannot resist sliding the useless material aside, her finger finally coming into direct contact with Chloe’s pooling arousal.

“Fuck,” Beca murmurs against Chloe’s lips. Before now, she had never imagined the idea of somebody being so wet for her would be as invitingly hot as it is, but God, it is. Of course, not as hot as the initial whimper to vibrate from Chloe’s throat in response. Beca realizes quickly that she wants to pull more of those sounds from Chloe. She wants louder sounds and desperate reactions, she wants to make this all about Chloe.

So, finger beginning to draw small circles against Chloe’s swollen clit, Beca reaches her free hand beneath her shirt, gently tugging Chloe’s hand away from her chest. Chloe pulls back to glance down at her briefly, and Beca finds that the eye contact doesn’t scare her. She keeps her eyes, hooded and hungry, on Chloe as she pulls Chloe’s arm around her shoulder, letting go to rest it out of the way.

The pace of Beca’s finger pressing tight circles into Chloe’s aching clit picks up, so much so that Chloe has to bite down onto her lower lip to suppress a moan, though she really doesn’t do the best job of it. The way Chloe feels, the sounds falling from her lips, it all causes Beca’s own arousal to pool between her legs, causes a familiar feeling of desperate heat to spread throughout her.

Chloe’s hips move in sync with Beca’s fingers, until her fingertips are coasting over Chloe’s slick center. Chloe’s head has tipped forward slightly, though Beca catches her gaze. Her voice comes out unfamiliarly raspy, “Is that what you want?”

Chloe whimpers in response, head nodding gently. For good measure, she pushes her hips forward until Beca’s fingertips are meeting with her entrance once more. It is hint enough for Beca to experimentally slip one finger inside of her, the instant feeling of warmth so inviting around her finger. Instinctively, Beca moves a second finger over to slide beside the other, until she is sinking both inside of Chloe’s dripping center.

The way Chloe lowers her hips to take Beca’s fingers more deeply inside of her is the biggest turn on, and Beca finds that she is the one that whimpers in response to Chloe’s hip movements, to the way she knows she is filling Chloe so wholly.

Chloe’s faster paced breathing, the way small whimpers continue to fall from her lips all tells Beca that she really had nothing to worry about as far as not knowing what to do. As her fingers begin to slip downward only to push back into Chloe again, she curls the tips, something Chloe seems to appreciate. Beca relishes in the way she can feel Chloe’s slick walls tightening around her fingers, and Beca decides to experiment a little more.

This time, as her fingers sink inside of Chloe’s center, Beca curves her hand until her palm is rubbing against Chloe’s still swollen clit. Her whole palm feels wet, and Chloe moves easily against it, her verbal reactions only intensifying, until Beca realizes Chloe has had to grip onto the edge of the driver’s seat to hold herself up properly, face burrowing against Beca’s shoulder. The way Chloe pants right by her ear, the way she moans as Beca’s fingers pump inside of her, palm still flattening against her, causes Beca to curse under her breath.

She has never experienced this before, never gotten to hear someone moaning so desperately for her touch. But Beca cannot deny that it is literally the hottest thing she has ever witnessed. The movement of Chloe’s body, the desperate sounds tumbling from her lips, literally nothing could be hotter to Beca.

“God, Chloe,” Beca whimpers, taking note of how easily her fingers slide deeper inside of her. Already, Chloe’s words are somewhat incoherent, but Beca hears it plainly when Chloe pants out the fact that she is going to come. The words cause Beca’s own walls to tighten, and she feels like she might somehow come right along with her. Beca can both feel and _hear_ how wet Chloe is, she can hear the way Chloe’s fingers dig deeper into the seat, until there are repetitive moans and desperate, unfiltered sounds falling without precision from her lips.

Chloe’s hips slow, though Beca doesn’t move away just yet. She allows her fingers, coated in evidence of Chloe’s current high, to slide out of her, until she can rub them in small, tight circles again over Chloe’s aching clit. Chloe whimpers louder in reaction, riding out her high, until Beca finally begins to slow. Honestly, she could do this all night, but Chloe’s body has sagged against her own with her heightened orgasm, so Beca pulls her hand away, the evidence still glistening plainly on her fingers.

It takes Chloe a moment—several moments, in fact—to begin to come down from her euphoric high, and Beca drinks in the sight on top of her, heart hammering hard in response.

“Jesus,” Chloe murmurs, finally catching her breath. Somewhat messily, she lifts her head, but only to seek out Beca’s lips with her own, connecting them in a lazy kiss. Her words are muffled by Beca’s parted lips, and spoken less than coherently, “You really had nothing to worry about.”

The reassurance, while unnecessary, causes the corners of Beca’s lips to curve upward against Chloe’s. Chloe is still panting slightly, though Beca is absolutely not complaining. She could revel in this sound forever, in the way Chloe’s body continues to move gently on top of her own.

A moment of silence follows, broken by the sounds of faster breathing, before Chloe finally seems to find a semblance of strength. She uses it to pull herself back a little bit, but remains in place atop of Beca’s lap. The hand previously clutching onto the seat releases its grasp, and instead moves over to brush a chunk of fallen hair behind Beca’s ear. It is not even intimidating, the way their gazes meet. It should be, but it’s not, and Beca finds that the soft smile Chloe is shooting her way is mirrored on her own lips.

“We’re so not good at this friend thing, are we?” Chloe finally rasps quietly through a breathy chuckle.

“No,” Beca agrees with a small smirk of her own. Her hand has settled on Chloe’s lower back, and her fingertips brush delicately through the fabric of her dress. “Maybe that’s something we need to reevaluate, how this whole friend thing works.”

Chloe’s eyes seem to darken some as she glances down toward Beca, head ducking to capture Beca’s lips with her own. “Yeah,” she murmurs into the kiss, the one she begins to deepen instantly, “Maybe so.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi [this is me](http://chloebeale.tumblr.com).


End file.
